


my voice is an echo

by fugues



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: M/M, Self-cest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 01:37:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fugues/pseuds/fugues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>being the same person doesn't make a discussion entirely impossible. not under the circumstances, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my voice is an echo

Ryoga meets Him, in some place that’s not really a place. In his own mind, maybe, but wherever the place may be - or not be - it’s an inky blackness that’s entirely empty besides them.  
  
(Him, himself, him, Himself)  
  
 _You have to wake_ , He breathes, and Ryoga says in the same voice (really the same, his voice the way he hears it himself rather than the way it sounds recorded), “No.”  
  
He smiles. It’s a tight smile, one that speaks of pain and loss rather than humor.  
  
 _ **We**  have to wake_, He tries this time. Ryoga shakes his head.  
  
(him-Himself or not, King or not)  
  
(he can’t give in to Him)  
  
Ryoga has to be himself, has to be Kamishiro Ryoga, for the sake of the things he cares about. For the sake of his sister, for the sake of…   
  
(Ryoga thinks of sunlight, and His expression twists a little before him)  
  
 _Idiot_ , He snaps, and His expression twists further.  
  
(Ryoga’s seen this kind of expression on himself, of course he has, because they’d hurt his sister and he’d wanted his revenge but--)  
  
 _But you know **nothing**  of loss_, He finishes Ryoga’s thought in a voice that sounds nothing like him even as it’s everything like him.  _Your idea of loss is child’s play, and your ideas of **love** are--_  
  
(He cuts it off abruptly but they’re the same, aren’t they, they’re not  _one_ but they’re the  _same_ even if their experiences aren’t, and so Ryoga sees just as He had before)  
  
(it’s not sunlight this time, it’s feathers and light on armor and the dizzying rush of a first flight; it’s that Smile with a capital letter and the feeling of brotherhood on a battlefield -  _how do your cards compare to bearing your swords and marching into battle together as one, Kamishiro Ryoga?_  - and fevered kisses away from the palace where no-one would know but His sister with her sight)  
  
(it’s the shared pain, the sharing of grief that threatens to overwhelm and the holding on to one another, two drowning souls clutching at one another to stay afloat)  
  
Ryoga is left reeling, left on his knees on a ground that isn’t there and gasping for air that he doubts exists in this place. And He stands above him, stands shaking with clenched fists and gritted teeth and a fire blazing in His eyes -  _I don’t care if it means going to hell, I’ll kill my sister’s enemies!_  an echo, a memory - and then He’s kneeling down before Ryoga and His forehead is pressed against Ryoga’s, His breath coming soft and shallow.  
  
 _Do you see now, Kamishiro Ryoga?_ He asks,  _Do you see why you have to wake, why we have to rise up?_  
  
“Yuuma,” Ryoga protests, but it sounds weak even to his own ears.  
  
(to His own, too, though He smiles almost sadly)  
  
 _Yeah_ , He says, soft now like He’s talking to a frightened animal, and Ryoga ought to be annoyed by it but somehow he’s… not.  _I’m sorry, Kamishiro Ryoga_.  
  
“He shouldn’t be our--” -- _enemy, I know. We will do what we can, Kamishiro Ryoga. And the other Barians will follow our lead._  
  
“This is the best chance he has,” Ryoga mutters abruptly, and He nods as much as He can with their heads pressed together.  
  
(will Yuuma ever accept that?)  
  
(will Ryoga be another betrayal to Yuuma, will he be the same as Vector in Yuuma’s eyes?)  
  
He digs His fingers into Ryoga’s ribs sharply, and Ryoga sees Rio - sees Merag - fall to undo Vector’s work flash through his mind again.  
  
 _We won’t be compared_ , and He’s practically growling it,  _we’ll make Yuuma understand_.  
  
It’s easy to believe, whether or not it should be - but of course it would be since they’re one, huh? - and Ryoga finds himself, without any real conscious decision, breathing out, “Yes.”  
  
And then He’s pressing His lips to Ryoga’s forehead and their eyes close and there’s a  _shift_ , some kind of blurring-together (sunlight on feathers and a key against armor and a comrade at their side on a duelfield, a battlefield, what’s even the difference sometimes?) and then his eyes are opening and they’re  _really_ opening, to the outside world instead of that void.  
  
Durbe stands there, human-encased and staring and there’s something  _small_ about him, something almost afraid - because Durbe remembers, doesn’t he, and Durbe has reached out to reclaim what he remembers but can’t be certain it will  _work_ \- about the one who’d taken over as the Barians’ leader. He stands there, and he stares with wide eyes and opens his mouth a few times and seems to hesitate, seems to struggle with which way to fall before he tries, slowly, “Kamishiro Ryoga?”  
  
“ _No_ ,” He cuts in before Durbe can say more, and at Durbe’s expression He finds Himself very nearly smiling as He goes on, “ _Kamishiro Nasch_.”


End file.
